Initial Point
by trollnexus
Summary: Every relationship has got to start somewhere.


**Title**: Initial Point

**Disclaimer**: Just a fanfic.

**Pairings**: Albus/Scorpius

**Rating**: T

**Warnings**: My own characterisation of Scorpius and Albus, which may or may not be your cup of tea. Also mild swearing.

**Summary**: Every relationship has got to start somewhere.

**Word Count**: 2,924

**Author's Note**: This was written for Round 13 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 2.

.x.x.

_Initial Point_

Scorpius seemed to glide through Diagon Alley, deftly dodging the paparazzi while still managing to look immaculate.

Albus stumbled along behind him, huffing and scowling.

"Stop, you prat! Let a bloke catch up once in a while!"

"And give the reporters a chance to pester us? I think not," replied Scorpius without pausing.

Even though Scorpius didn't bother to turn around, Albus could practically see his delicately raised eyebrow, and that only made him grumpier. He ran to catch up with him.

"Why can't we just Floo or Apparate to our destination like normal people?"

Scorpius shrugged. "You're getting out of shape. Also, I need more pictures for our album."

"What do you—" but before Albus could finish his question, Scorpius abruptly stopped, did an about-face, and wrapped his arm around Albus, holding up a peace sign as a camera flash went off.

Albus spluttered and took a swing at him, but by the time his fist moved, Scorpius had already let go and was walking on.

"Come, now. All that office work has been making you lose that Quidditch figure," Scorpius called out, now several yards ahead of Albus.

Albus hissed and ran after him.

All this just for the chance to have lunch with the prat. He sure knew how to pick them.

.x.x.

The next morning, Albus blearily opened the bedroom window and let the owl in. He could already tell it was the paper, and he had a sinking feeling about its contents.

Holding up the paper in the early morning sunlight, he ignored the front page and kept flipping; the front page was reserved for boring political issues or the occasional speculation on his dad's or maybe his aunt Hermione's political actions. What he wanted—well, dreaded, rather—was likelier to be on some gossip-filled page towards the end.

He groaned when he reached it.

There they were, with Scorpius's arm wrapped playfully around his shoulders as he grimaced. The picture version of Albus kept trying to shove Scorpius away, in line with his real-life personality, but anyone with eyes could tell that he wasn't trying really hard.

He set the paper down on the nightstand and stared at a spot on the carpet. Hopefully his father was still in his "the media is garbage" phase and wouldn't see the paper. The last thing he needed was to be pestered about his love life.

He moved over to the mirror, ruffled his hair, and put on his best Harry Potter voice.

"You know, Al, er, I understand that your career is important to you. It, er, brings you a sense of…well, purpose in life, and you know I support you all the way. But there comes a time when you want more than that, you know? You can work on your career for the rest of your life, but you won't always have the energy for a family. No, no, don't get me wrong—I'm not saying you should get a wife."

Albus imitated his father's awkward attempt at a chuckle before continuing. He wanted to get all the details just right.

"But even with a husband, well, he might want children himself. And can you handle a kid running around when you're fifty? So just, well, just think about getting serious, okay? You're thirty now. You're not getting any younger."

He dropped the act and shook his head. Merlin, it was scary how good he was at that. Maybe he really was growing into his father, and wasn't that an unpleasant thought?

"You can shove it, Dad," he muttered. "I'm the only one who knows what I want."

He stretched and then went to take a shower.

.x.x.

The office was pretty quiet when he got there. A couple of people gave him knowing smirks and nods, but for the most part people generally continued working and did not pester him.

He liked being relatively unknown. Sure, his dad was famous and had saved the world as they knew it, but Albus Potter was no one special. Just one of Harry Potter's three kids, and the least impressive one at that. He wasn't a well-established Quidditch star like James or an innovative Potions Master like Lily; he simply did paperwork for witches and wizards who either couldn't understand English or were too new to magic to understand the terminology on the necessary government forms.

He supposed he would call himself a social worker. It wasn't a glamourous job, but he loved what he did.

As a bonus, the paparazzi usually found him uninteresting enough to leave him alone.

Until recently, anyway.

He sighed as he sat down at his desk. If someone asked him to explain how it all started, he would have just laughed and shrugged helplessly. Does anyone really know how anything starts?

.x.x.

Back at Hogwarts, Scorpius Malfoy hadn't been anyone special to him. Sure, Rose and Scorpius had competed over academics, but it had been a friendly competition with no malicious intent, so the Potter children were content to just shrug and root for Rose, while Scorpius had his own friends to support him. Albus hadn't even been in the same House as him, so he rarely saw him except in the occasional shared class or maybe in the hallway.

Then this one particular Auror case had come up, about six months ago. There was some criminal who had left behind a long, complicated trail of paperwork filled with false names and contract deals, and Scorpius had been trying to untangle all the details. Most Auror work actually wasn't about physical combat with the bad guys—instead, Aurors more often than not spent a lot of time interviewing people and trying to decipher records.

It just so happened that the suspect had passed through Albus's office, wanting to know how imports were taxed, how to mark something for charity purposes, and other mundane questions. The suspect had disguised himself as an old Bulgarian man with a thick accent, just trying to follow his entrepreneurial dreams, and Albus had thought nothing of it.

This was why it was such a shock to see Auror Malfoy show up at his office, looking grim and asking to obtain Albus's memories from that day.

"Excuse me?"

Scorpius had shaken his head. "I do not have time for scruples. I need those memories."

"You can't just waltz into my office and demand my memories!"

Scorpius narrowed his eyes for a moment before widening them and smacking himself gently on his forehead.

"My apologies. Here." He handed Albus the search warrant. "That's what's bothering you, isn't it? Everything must be done properly, after all."

Albus had sighed and skimmed the warrant. That wasn't why he had been upset at all, but now that Auror Malfoy had shown him the correct parchment, he couldn't very well argue. He held up his wand to his temple, concentrated, and placed the strands of memory into the vial Scorpius had held out.

It was only later, when Scorpius took him out to lunch to thank him for his help, that Albus had opened up about why he was upset that day.

"It makes me sick to my stomach, just thinking about someone masquerading as an immigrant to get help for that kind of thing. I wasn't even suspicious of his questions; I don't remember half of them. I even helped him fill out some of the paperwork myself and signed my name as the person who translated for him. I…I could have gotten into trouble."

Scorpius had patted him on the shoulder. "It's sickening, to be sure, but you were not solely responsible. He went to many different sources, getting a variety of information from each of them, and his questions were simple and mundane enough that no one could possibly recall them. That's what he had been counting on. Besides, you wouldn't have gotten into trouble. We do have to hold onto your memories for the trial, though."

Albus found himself unclenching his fists at Scorpius's touch and feeling surprised that they had been clenched in the first place. "That's understandable. I'm not particularly attached to them anyway."

"We will give them back, though. Every memory is important, no matter how mundane."

"I guess. Thanks for lunch, by the way."

"It's the least I could do. Would you mind having lunch with me again?"

"I'll think about it."

.x.x.

He smiled and shook his head at the memory. Yes, he had said he'd think about it, but in the end there hadn't been much to think about. It was nice to eat with someone else, and Scorpius knew how to hold a conversation. Before he knew it, he and Scorpius had developed a routine. There were moments when he wondered why Scorpius didn't eat with his co-workers, but he couldn't think of a polite way to ask, so he just shrugged off the thought and forgot about it.

The paparazzi followed everywhere they went, however, and even now Albus still found it annoying. Scorpius Malfoy had become a star Auror over the years, holding one of the highest solve rates since Head Auror Harry Potter himself. The press did not find anything particularly scandalous about Scorpius, but they just adored snapping photos of him.

He _was_ rather attractive—unlike his father, his face had softer angles, and he knew how to smile winningly for the camera, tossing his platinum blond hair in such a way that would make the most of the available light around him. Post-war, Draco Malfoy had grown camera-shy, but Scorpius lived for the limelight.

"After all," he had quipped to Albus over some pudding, "there's no harm in cooperating with them and presenting my best face. I know they'll eventually catch me unawares and pick the worst angles, but I might as well give them a great selection while I still can."

Albus sighed and shuffled the papers on his desk, even as he pondered the extent of Scopius's vanity. He had no idea why he found the bugger so attractive, really, aside from the surface. The man seemed to like attention just a little too much, and his fast pace always had Albus running after him, both figuratively and literally. Honestly, Albus found much more enjoyment in his peaceful desk job.

Nonetheless, this was how his feelings ran. He wasn't sure if Scorpius felt the same way, but really, he didn't fret about it. Scorpius chose to spend time with him for a reason, and he planned to be satisfied with it. He really wasn't in a rush to start a family, anyway, despite his father's wishes. All he wanted for now was someone nice to spend time with, whether romantically or not.

As if in line with his thoughts, a bright yellow memo flew into the room and landed on his desk.

_Lunch? You pick the place this time. And yes, we can take the Floo today; you've reached your exercise quota._

_-SM_

Albus snorted but started writing his response anyway.

.x.x.

After the waiter had taken their order and left, Scorpius pulled out a clipping of the newspaper and was waving the picture around.

"Isn't it splendid, Albus? No, don't pretend to frown at me. You know you love this picture."

"I guess it does sum up our relationship," he retorted while trying not to let his eyes linger on it. "You putting me into a chokehold and me trying to get away from you."

"Now, now, that's quite the exaggeration," replied Scorpius, his eyes bright. "What's crawled up your arse today? Trouble at work?"

Albus shrugged, already repenting his sarcastic tone. "Nothing like that. I guess I just hope my dad doesn't see it. And I'm not used to being in the paper, not since people realised how boring I am compared to my dad."

Scorpius tapped his chin. "Ah, I understand now. This stems from a childhood resentment of your father, doesn't it? I've been wondering why a brilliant bloke like you would consent to toiling away in an office. You just want to avoid being him at all costs, don't you?"

Albus scowled and stabbed his salad, which the waiter had brought a minute ago. "Oh, not you, too. Rose already pulls this psychotic anal bollocks every time I see her. Did she spread it to you?"

Scorpius grinned and shook his head, his cheeks seeming to twitch. "I think the term is 'psychoanalytical.'"

"That's what I said."

Scorpius continued to shake his head but said nothing further, so Albus went back to his salad. Perhaps he should have chosen soup; flinging salad at someone's face just doesn't have the same effect.

"I don't know what impression you have of my dad—"

"Most annoying boss ever," Scorpius avowed.

"—but he's not some sort of awful creature I fear becoming or anything. He and I are simply different people. I've come to accept that."

"Mhm. Well, I wouldn't judge you if you actually did find him to be an awful creature, though. I could relate if you did."

Albus narrowed his eyes, not sure if Scorpius was talking about Albus's dad or perhaps his own dad, but he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume the latter. "Well, he isn't. He's a respectable man who's been through a lot, but I just happen to like being known as 'Albus' instead of 'Harry Potter's son.' Is that so unreasonable?"

"No," shrugged Scorpius. "But an office job?"

"What? I happen to love what I do. I'm sorry it's not as interesting as chasing down criminals, but it brings me fulfilment, and that's all that matters to me."

Scorpius sat in silence, his brows furrowed. At length, he said, "All right. I can see that. You like helping people, but you also like doing it in a quiet way. This desire may or may not have something to do with your feelings for your father—ah! Keep that fork down!—but I can see now that it's not really relevant to you."

"Are you done?"

"Not nearly. Look at my plate full of food. It'll take me at least twenty minutes to finish this," Scorpius said, clearly pretending to misunderstand.

Albus sighed. "It'd be ten if you'd just hold your tongue."

Scorpius shrugged, looked down at Albus's unoccupied hand, and suddenly took it in his.

"Maybe you can hold my tongue for me," he said thoughtfully, as calmly as if he had said that maybe Albus could do some paperwork for him.

Albus blinked at him, but he did not shake off his hand.

"I'll think about it," he said after a few moments.

"Good. Because I already think about it. It's time you joined me."

.x.x.

They did not go back to work immediately after lunch.

Instead, Albus found himself being Apparated to Scorpius's home.

"Aren't you moving a little fast?" he protested, as Scorpius leaned on him and pressed him against the wall. "I haven't even admitted to being your friend, much less anything else."

"I'm not going to do anything untoward; your father would throttle me if I didn't return to the office soon. I just didn't want our first kiss to be seen by anyone else, especially not the paparazzi."

Albus quirked an eyebrow, even as he had to swallow nervously at the words "first kiss."

"Oh? I thought you liked having your picture taken for all occasions. Something about an album?"

"Oh, no," whispered Scorpius. "The moments I value the most are the private ones."

Before Albus could respond, Scopius closed the distance between them and brought their lips together.

It was for the best, reflected Albus as he wrapped his arms around him and moved his own lips in response. He wasn't feeling very witty right now, so any response he could have given would have been embarrassing.

Scorpius pulled back and looked at him. "You know, I don't know what it is about you. Maybe it's the fact that you're so calm and collected most of the time. It's actually fun to make you have to catch your breath every once in a while."

Albus laughed softly. "Me? Calm and collected? I think you mean boring."

Scorpius shook his head and kissed him again. When he pulled away, he said, "Not boring. Your face alone can entertain me for hours."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"Just take it," Scorpius said, grinning.

"I'm not desperate," Albus said. "I'll only take what I want."

"Well, don't you want me? Or have I been mistaken?"

"You've been gravely mistaken," Albus said solemnly, nodding just deep enough to make it clear he was kidding. "Biggest error you've ever made in your bright, highly-lauded career."

Scorpius laughed and pulled him into a hug.

Albus closed his eyes and enjoyed the hug. This, even more than the kisses, felt very nice.

Scorpius pressed his lips against Albus's ear. "We shall continue this after work, shall we? I really just wanted this moment alone with you to tide me over until then."

Albus nodded. There was always more time to discuss things later. He wasn't sure, really, if this was going to work out, or if the two of them were even on the same page.

He was confident, however, that everything would at least proceed in a natural fashion from here.

"Would you like to have dinner together after work, then?" asked Albus.

Scorpius grinned. "Ooh, dinner! Things really are progressing."

Albus pinched his cheek and took that as a yes.


End file.
